


I like it when you take control (even if you know that you don't)

by writworm42



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Choking, Daddy Kink, F/F, Hair Pulling, Lesbian AU, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stud Vanessa, anyways it's holtz, because as the gays request it so it shall be, bratty sub brooke, holtz is the gays, strap ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:55:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23846290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: Vanessa gives Brooke a visit at the club she dances at; Brooke makes sure her wife's visit is worth her while.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 20
Kudos: 29





	I like it when you take control (even if you know that you don't)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holtzmanns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzmanns/gifts).

> For my dear bb Holtz, who is the absolute best <3 Thank you for being such an amazing friend, cheerleader, saltmate, and someone who always challenges me and pushes me to be the best in more than just my writing (but also in my writing) <3 
> 
> Thank you also to Holtz for beta-ing this fdjskfhdsjk YOU'RE ALSO THE BEST BETA <3 
> 
> Title from Bad Guy by Billie Eilish
> 
> Also, Stern And Likely Unnecessary Disclaimer Of The Day: I want to isolate out one point in the story where V and B go backstage and they're already slipping into a dynamic in front of other girls--DON'T DO THIS. Keep your kinks private, unless everyone in that space has agreed that it's okay. I tried to leave that implied in the story, but I realize that it could come across as the implication/consent automatically being there because of where Brooke works, and to be clear: it's not. Irl, no matter where someone works, involving people in a dynamic--however tangentially--is not okay. Fanfic writers omit details because they need to make stories flow, and because fiction is fiction. Just because you read something happening in a fic doesn't mean it's okay irl. Publicly using titles, being rough w ur partner, etc is one of those things. 
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, ENJOY <3

“What d’you say, daddy, wanna take this to the back?” Brooke grinds down on the guest’s lap, licking her lips as she stares straight into the woman’s eyes and brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. The woman, for her part, is unfazed--in fact, her eyes take on a kind of sparkle, something that tells Brooke she’s about to have a  _ lot _ of fun at work tonight.

Perfect. 

“C’mon, daddy, I’ll even give you a discount.” Brooke winks, getting up a little, easing off the woman so that she chases it (they  _ always _ chase it), wants more (they  _ always _ want more). “Since you tip so well.”

“Oh?” the woman smirks, grabs Brooke’s hips, pulls her down roughly back on her lap. “What discount is that, baby?”

Brooke shrugs, acts cool, doesn’t let the banter knock her off her concentration. Instead, she goes in for the kill, executes the one move she knows this woman won’t be able to resist. And she’s  _ right _ \--the minute she brings her hands up to her own tits, lets her eyes flutter close as she kneads them in her own palms, she’s being thrust off of the woman’s lap and dragged toward the back room of the club.

Well, sort of. 

“You really in a bratty mood tonight, huh? Couldn’t just let daddy fuck you when she asked if you wanted it?” Vanessa drags Brooke past the private dance rooms, into the club’s changing-room. The other girls doing their makeup and texting between their dances snicker as Brooke is pulled inside, practically thrown against her station at the mirrors. “C’mon, don’t keep daddy waiting. Your shift already ended half an hour ago, I’m not gonna keep holding out much longer.” 

Sue her - Brooke likes teasing Vanessa, and if her wife is going to show up at work, she may as well have fun with it.

Plus, Nina doesn’t really care if Brooke stays overtime, not if the only patron she has eyes for is the one she goes home with every night. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” Vanessa clicks her tongue as Brooke gets her belongings together. “There’s plenty of rooms here we coulda used if you were horny. You wanted to wait, now we gonna wait. Come on.” 

Brooke doesn’t argue, only follows Vanessa out of the staff exit and hurries into their waiting car. 

“I could feel how wet you were even through your thong, baby. Rub your pussy while I drive, I don’t want you drying up on me even a little.” 

Brooke obeys without a second thought, and the next twenty minutes pass by far too quickly for her liking as she rubs at her clit, moaning when Vanessa presses her hand down on top of Brooke’s own at every stoplight, just to make it that much harder to maintain her composure.

It’s true what they say, she supposes--some things are  _ definitely _ worth the wait.

\--

Brooke can barely stand by the time she and Vanessa teach home, but that’s not a problem. In fact, she’s barely walking as is, not so much as she’s being pulled by the firm grip on her wrist towards the living room, because why bother getting all the way upstairs when they have a perfectly sturdy couch?

“Now that we’re home, you gonna be nice and sweet for daddy like you were in the car?” Vanessa pants the question against Brooke’s neck between searing kisses, emphasizes it with hands squeezing her ass. 

It’s tempting to Brooke, it really is, to give in and get rewarded, keep it going. Except that Brooke knows how Vanessa works—if she gives in now, things’ll turn soft, domestic, a little too safe and a little too passive. It’s not what Brooke wants, and one look at the challenge in Vanessa’s eyes makes it obvious that it’s not what she wants, either.

So Brooke shrugs, answering by giving Vanessa’s ass a playful slap. She knows she’s going to pay for it but the action is completely worth it, solely due to the faint surprise that flashes across Vanessa’s face.

“And if I’m not?” Brooke challenges, spanking Vanessa again for good measure, but this time, Vanessa doesn’t look surprised. In fact, she’s lit up, face stern but eyes excited as she reaches up, grabs Brooke by the hair, pulls just enough that she cries out, stumbles a little. 

“I’m gonna give you one last chance to be a good girl, then I’m gonna run out of patience.” Vanessa tugs Brooke’s hair again, forcing her head back enough so that her neck is exposed, open and available for Vanessa to bite down on. 

“And if I don’t take that chance?” Brooke steels herself against the growing urge to give in, barely succeeding in stopping her hips from involuntarily bucking a little. Vanessa must notice though, because she’s suddenly pulling Brooke’s head down, forcing her to look the shorter woman right in the eyes. 

“Then you may as well get over my knee without fighting, ‘cause believe me, that’s the nicest thing that’s about to happen to you tonight.”

The next thing Brooke knows, she’s being pulled over onto the couch, thrown across Vanessa’s lap before her wife lets go of her hair, smooths it out a little and looks at her with a sudden flash of concern in her eyes. 

“What, you gonna keep me waiting?” Brooke smirks, the words as much a signal that she’s okay as they are a challenge, a way of asking for more without actually having to say it. She  _ will  _ say it tonight, that she knows for sure--but not yet, not now, not when they’re still warming up.

It feels so much better to beg when Brooke can’t help but do it, anyway. 

“Well, since you want it so badly.” Vanessa takes the challenge up nonchalantly, shrugs easily as if she’s just talking about the weather. Only, she’s already flipping Brooke’s skirt up, examining her ass like she’s looking for the best place to hit first. “I was gonna give you a chance to tell me how many you wanted first, but I guess that’s up to me now, huh?” 

Brooke’s eyes widen, her breath catching as she realizes her mistake, but it’s too late--Vanessa’s raining her hand down on Brooke’s backside, each hit harder than the previous one, coming down faster and faster until Brooke has lost count of exactly how many spankings she’s gotten. All she knows is, it’s not enough--no, with every slap, every hit, every whimper that escapes Brooke’s lips, she has to resist the urge to push back into Vanessa’s hand, to let her moans become pleas for  _ more, more, more _ .

“I’m hearing a lot of whining, baby.” Brooke gasps when Vanessa tugs her hair again, the hits stopping in favour of a hand soothing the stinging, warm sensation prickling across Brooke’s ass. “Where’s daddy’s gratitude though, huh? Did you forget your manners?”

“Thank you, daddy.” Brooke sighs, and Vanessa’s grip loosens, the air in the room finally beginning to relax as Vanessa takes a moment to breathe, soothe all the spots that Brooke knows will be sore a few hours from now, when the adrenaline fades. 

“You’re welcome, baby.” Vanessa purrs, and for a moment, Brooke thinks that’s it--the game is over, now she’ll get her reward, since she took her punishment so nicely. 

It’s pure wishful thinking, though, because Vanessa’s already getting that devilish look in her eyes again, already looking Brooke up and down as if she’s planning her next move.

_ That’s the nicest thing that’s about to happen to you tonight. _

Oh, fuck. 

Brooke had forgotten that if there’s one thing that can be said about Vanessa, it’s that she’s a woman of her word, one who never breaks her promises.

“You know,” Vanessa’s hand begins to travel away from Brooke’s ass, down the inside of her thigh, stopping abruptly when Brooke squirms at the sensation, “I like this view of you. Seein’ your pretty little ass… Hm, I bet we could get those shoulders and back all nice and marked up for me too, huh?” she emphasizes her question by beginning to move her hand again, this time inching up the inside of Brooke’s thighs, up between her legs, towards her pussy.

“These are soaked.” Vanessa grins, stroking two firm fingers along Brooke’s slit and laughing a little when Brooke moans. “Look.” 

Vanessa brings her fingers away from Brooke’s cunt, up to her face for Brooke to see for herself what a mess she’s already making, Vanessa’s fingers glistening just with a faint wetness. 

“That’s just--You didn’t push them out of the--”

“Did getting a spanking turn you on that much, baby girl?” Vanessa gasps in mock surprise, her voice dripping with amusement, and Brooke can tell she’s enjoying this, that this is going to be something she never lives down. “I mean, you were wet before, but  _ this…  _ Very interesting.” 

Vanessa punctuates the taunt by bringing her hands back down between Brooke’s legs, stroking her over her thong again.

“Daddy, please…” 

Brooke trails off because she’s not really sure what she should add at the end of that sentence, what she actually wants to beg for. Whether she wants to get undressed, or wants Vanessa to keep teasing her. For Vanessa to keep her right here, on her lap, or pull her up and throw her somewhere else. How rough she wants Vanessa to treat her, where she wants to feel Vanessa’s scratches and bites, kisses and whispered praises the most. 

Luckily, though, Vanessa doesn’t seem particularly pressed about Brooke figuring it out. “ _ Shhh _ ,” she soothes, finally beginning to lower Brooke’s thong, helping her shuffle up so she can slide it off entirely. “‘S’alright, kitten, don’t you worry. Just keep being a good, wet little mess for daddy, and I’ll take care of you, ‘kay?”

Brooke doesn’t need to think anymore; only leans forward, closes the distance between herself and Vanessa with a kiss.

“Okay.”

The switch flips almost instantly; the minute they separate, Brooke feels Vanessa’s hand creep up to her throat, grab it lightly and pull her back towards her, close enough to tease, not enough to kiss. “Good girl. Now, turn around and get that dress off, hands on the back of the couch when you’re done. I’m gonna go pick out a nice, thick cock, and if you suck it good, I might go easy on you with it.” 

By the time Brooke has settled on the couch, facing the wall just as she’d been told, she can already hear Vanessa walking back, and has to fight the instinct to turn around and peek.

Vanessa will let her know when it’s time to look; for now, she bears the buildup, breathes deeply to slow her heart and take some of the edge off of the building, throbbing tension between her legs. 

“Well, ain’t this a lovely view?” 

Brooke flinches, resisting the urge to turn around or to whimper when Vanessa shivers at the obvious conflict Brooke is trying not to show, the obvious way she’s fighting against her own instincts. 

“Turn around and look at me, baby. I wanna see the rest of you.” 

Vanessa’s voice is strangely gentle, but Brooke doesn’t question it--only sighs internally with relief as she obeys, finally coming to look at her wife standing proudly behind her. 

“Holy shit.” 

Vanessa is as beautiful as ever, as good to look at as ever, but there’s something about the way she stands when she wears her strap that’s even more captivating, enough to bowl Brooke over. Maybe it’s the strap itself sitting between her legs, how natural it looks there, how tempting it is, how badly Brooke wants it closer to her, in her hand or her mouth or other places she  _ needs _ it. Or maybe it’s the way Vanessa’s standing a little taller, a little more confidently, a smirk on her face because she  _ knew _ , even before Brooke looked at her, what she looks like, the kind of power she has. How irresistible she is like this, how she owns Brooke completely at this moment. 

But the hottest part--the most  _ tempting _ part--is how Vanessa looks right back at Brooke, licks her lips, lets her eyes trail up and down her body like she’s something good to eat, like Vanessa’s trying to decide which parts of her would be best to taste first. 

_ Anything, try anything, take any part of me.  _ She barely holds the plea back, but luckily, she doesn’t have to for long, because Vanessa cocks a brow, crosses her arms against her chest like she’s wondering why Brooke hasn’t already gotten up off the couch and come over to her.

“You know what to do, baby girl.” Vanessa smiles as Brooke gets down on her knees, sucks in a breath. Her heart is pounding and she can feel herself dripping, but she forces herself to breathe, stay focused as she wraps her hand around the base of the toy, lets her tongue dart out to just barely touch its tip. It’s one last tease, once last defiance, that Brooke knows will  _ really _ test Vanessa, really challenge her maintain control, or otherwise give her an opportunity to lose it. 

Truth be told, either one will lead to the same outcome--Vanessa growling at Brooke not to tease, thrusting into her mouth and forcing the thick dildo into Brooke’s mouth, down her throat. Fucking into her as intently as Brooke sucks her back, soft gags and the sight of her eyes rolling back into her head finally coaxing Vanessa into letting her drop her resolve, relax and let Brooke work her magic.

“Well?” Brooke leaves a trail of spit hanging as she pops off the toy, wipes her mouth and bites her lip in anticipation of Vanessa’s critique. But it doesn’t come--not verbally, at least. Instead, it comes in the form of a fist in Brooke’s hair dragging her back towards the couch, throwing her over it before she can make sense of what’s happening.

Ah. So she’s done Vanessa proud, then.

“Spread your legs, baby, let daddy see what’s hers.” 

Vanessa’s voice is hoarse, desperate, and Brooke knows that Vanessa’s as far gone as she is, as desperate as she feels right now. Perfect; because that’s always where Brooke likes Vanessa best. So she cooperates, does what Vanessa says, sucks in a breath as Vanessa lubes up the dick, then finally slides into her.

“God, I love how well you take my cock, you know that?” Vanessa growls, but doesn’t move, stays inside Brooke but teases her with her immobility. 

She knows what she’s doing, of course; knows that Brooke is never patient when they get to this part, that the worst thing that she could do is ask Brooke to stay still.

“Daddy, please--”

Vanessa brings a hand down on Brooke’s ass, a sharp, stinging slap that shuts her up instantly. “Be quiet and stay still. You can beg for shit when I say you can.” 

“But--”

Another slap, another reprimand. “ _ Did I say you could beg yet? _ ” Vanessa repeats, her voice edged with a hard impatience this time. Brooke whimpers, shakes her head, but says nothing. 

“Good girl, now you’re learning.” Vanessa’s voice softens, and Brooke feels Vanessa’s hand sliding up her back to her shoulder, making her shiver. Vanessa’s hand continues until it’s at Brooke’s neck, grabbing a soft, firm hold, one that Brooke knows is as much meant to steady and comfort her as it is to remind her who’s in charge. 

And then, finally, Vanessa starts to move. 

Vanessa has always been able to move in a way that no one else Brooke has ever met is able to. Even the first time that they’d slept together, fresh out of college and trying to be quiet in Brooke’s bedroom lest her parents hear, Vanessa had had an innate ability to feel out Brooke’s wavelength before Brooke had even decided which one she was on, match her perfectly. To not just keep up, but change the dance completely, give as much as she took until Brooke didn’t know who was doing what, who was leading or following—just that whatever was happening, it felt fucking  _ good _ . 

And with time, with effort, with conversations and misunderstandings and flights of fancy, Vanessa and Brooke have only grown more compatible, each learning more and more about each other every kiss, every touch, every whispered pet name or growled faux threat. Until now here they are, ten years into their relationship and four into their marriage, Vanessa pounding hard and fast into Brooke and Brooke fucking back into her with a desperation she always forgets is possible to feel until it overtakes her completely, melting any sight, any sound, any feeling except what Vanessa gives her away.

“Awfully quiet now, ain’t we?” Vanessa teases, changing her angle just so to hit against Brooke’s spot in a way Vanessa knows drives her crazy. “Where’s all them noises now? Huh? C’mon, sweetheart, it’s okay—tell daddy how you feel, how you like what I’m doing to you.” 

“I—I—“ Brooke swallows hard, because she can’t get the words out. It’s too hard, too confusing, too much and yet not enough and all she knows is she needs  _ more, more, please, more— _

“Go on and come, kitten. Come for daddy.” 

The world always seems to warp at times like these—the world gets quieter, seems fuzzier. Blurs out completely, save for a few things, things she wouldn’t trade for the world. 

Vanessa’s grip tightening one last time against Brooke’s neck. Her voice, low and raspy in Brooke’s ear, whispering sweet nothings and filthy encouragements,  _ that’s my girl, God, keep fucking into me like that, don’t hold back, fuck, you make the cutest noises like this, you know that?  _

But best of all happens when Brooke finally comes down, her lungs still gasping for air and head still attempting to stop spinning; when Vanessa is letting go, pulling out, grabbing hold of Brooke and easing her down, smiling at her and telling her how fucking proud she is (how so, so fucking proud she is). Because there’s nothing quite like the way Vanessa’s eyes sparkle with affection while she scans Brooke’s face for signs of hurt or distress, or the softness of her lips against Brooke’s when she brings her in for a long, gentle kiss. Nothing like the lightness of her fingers brushing away the sweat-soaked flyaways that stick to Brooke’s forehead, or the way she slides Brooke into her arms and holds her tight, holds her down and pulls her back into the world. 

“Thank you, daddy.” Brooke sighs contentedly after a while, when she finally feels ready to talk again. “I love you.”

Vanessa laughs softly, squeezes Brooke a little tighter, plants a kiss on her forehead. 

“I’m proud of you, baby. And I love you, too.”


End file.
